A Winter's Kiss
by LadyKailitha
Summary: John Watson asks his best friend, Sherlock Holmes to the Winter Ball, only to find out he didn't ask soon enough. Sherlock is going with Victor. John is devastated until one of the coolest boys in school asks him to the Ball. Will John realize who he needs before too late?


**A/N: Hello, darlings. This is one of two one-shots I did when I was ill. The other still needs to be typed up. But I wanted to do a Winter Ball story, especially considering that I was going to have one in Westminster Private Academy (I still might, I just don't know when I'll get back to it) and was itching to do one.**

**Thanks to my beta, old ping hai. She is truly wonderful and I'm grateful to have found her.**

* * *

John shifted nervously from one foot to the other, tangling his fingers together to avoid biting his nails. He shouldn't feel this tense. Sherlock was his best friend, it wasn't as though he would make fun of him for asking.

Yeah, sure, Sherlock was dick most of the time, to pretty much everyone. He might accidentally hurt you with his deductions, but he would never make fun of someone who hadn't made fun of him first.

The tall, dark-haired boy walked out of the dance studio, his shoes draped over his neck, sweat dripping from his brow. He stopped short when he saw John waiting for him.

John turned bright pink, "Hey."

Sherlock cocked his head to the side. "Hello. What are you doing here? I thought you had rugby."

John's blush darkened. "It won't hurt to be a bit late, that is how we met, after all."

Sherlock smiled. "You still haven't answered the question, John."

"Yeah–" he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "Wouldyougotothewinterballwithme?"

Sherlock blinked. "Oh."

"Yeah," John said. "I thought we could go together, neither one of us have dates and anyway–"

"I'm sorry. Victor asked me during maths and I said yes."

John looked stricken. "That's good. Hey, yeah. That's great. You two have fun."

"John–" Sherlock reached out to touch his friend's shoulder, but the blond shrugged him off.

"No, it's fine, Sherlock. See you tomorrow." John turned on his heel and marched away from the dance studio, fists clenched.

As he neared the rugby pitch he snarled to himself, "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course he would have a date. He's beautiful, talented, smart. Why would he want to go with me when he could have the captain of the fencing team?"

They fit. Victor was a tall, gorgeous Indian English boy with a whipcord frame and tousled dark locks. He could be on the cover of magazines. John was your garden variety jock. He was on the low side of average height, blond, blue-eyed, stocky. He had nothing compared to Victor.

No one was going to ask him to the dance. He couldn't think of anyone else he could ask. So with a little more than one week before the dance, he was dateless.

At his old school he had to beat off the girls wanting to date him, but here he was the poor scholarship boy. As Sherlock would say "It's hateful."

The coach spotted him and berated him for being late, and John just took it. He was late, but didn't bother with an explanation. His teammates would have teased him for it.

The disappointment twisted low in his gut. He wanted to go with Sherlock. He shook it off and channelled his dissatisfaction into his rugby game. So much so that his coach congratulated him and told him that he more than made up for being late. John gave his coach a weak smile before he hit the showers.

* * *

The next morning one of Victor's friends came bounding up to him. Langdale Pike, known as Dale to his friends, was every bit as gorgeous as Victor and Sherlock. He was tall. Taller than most the other boys at their school. He had light brown hair that unless he tamed it, sprang out in curls around his thin face. His eyes were bright blue and sparkled with mischief.

"Hey, John," Dale said with small smile.

"Oh, hey, Dale. What's up?"

"The whole school is abuzz with the rumor you asked Sherlock Holmes to the ball and got turned down. Is it true?"

John groaned. "How the hell did people find that out?"

Dale put his hand over his heart and swooned dramatically, "You wound me, Watson. A journalist never reveals his source."

John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, _Pike_."

Dale laughed. "One of the ballerinas overheard you."

John moaned. He should have pulled Sherlock aside. Now he was going to be the butt of every joke today. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

"So, you ask him because he was your friend or because you have the hots for him?" Dale asked.

John opened his eyes and cocked his head to side. "You asking me to the dance, Dale?"

"And if I was?" Dale asked, his usual inane demeanor dropping away to seriousness.

John frowned. "I thought you were going with Isabel Norton?"

Dale sighed. "She broke up with me last week. She said that she couldn't see a future with me."

Jon winced. As far as breakup lines goes, that had to be one of the worst. He shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders.

"So, are you not straight, then?"

Dale's small smile returned. "I like both. I'm bisexual. And if you asking Sherlock to the ball is any indication, you might be, too."

John thought about it for a minute and then said, "If you're asking, Dale, then hell yes. I'll go with you. A full on date. Dinner, the works."

Dale jumped around and laughed. "Thank you!" He kissed John. John melted.

"Yeah. Not straight," John said, breathless.

Dale grinned. "If we are doing the works, then I'm paying. Dinner, tuxes, a rented limo. I asked, it's only fair."

John nodded, his fingers pressed to his lips. "How's seven sound for dinner?"

"Oh, John, you are a man after my own heart. If we go at seven then we'll be fashionably late for the ball."

John just laughed and shoved Dale. "I'm going to be late for class, you lunatic. Go on."

Dale bowed with a flourish and was gone.

* * *

John was practically skipping when he entered his chemistry class. He was thrilled. Not only was he going to the ball, but he was going with one of the richest, most popular boys in the whole school. The day couldn't get any better.

He slid into his seat next to Sherlock, grinning like a fool.

"Good morning, Sherlock!" John chirped.

"I'm glad you're not upset about yesterday. I–" Sherlock started.

John waved him off. "No trouble. It's fine. Besides I've got a date to the dance."

Sherlock frowned. "Not female. Otherwise, I'd smell perfume, which eliminates Mary."

"Mary? Mary who?" John asked interrupting Sherlock's deduction. His friend rolled his eyes and pointed to the pretty blond girl two rows in front of them.

"Morstan? Really? I didn't know she was interested," John admitted.

"That leaves male as there aren't any transgendered students," Sherlock continued.

Sherlock was about to say something more when the teacher started class. John hummed happily through the entire period while Sherlock groused.

It was agony for Sherlock and when the bell finally rang, he spoke up immediately.

"What happened to 'I'm not gay'?" he asked as he gathered up his books.

"Well, considering that I'm attracted to women, I'd say that still stands."

"So, are you saying you're bisexual, then?" Sherlock pressed.

"Well, I guess you'd know all about unusual sexualities with your asexuality." John winced when he saw Sherlock's face close off. "Not that there is anything wrong with that."

"I'm gay, John. I thought you knew. When you asked if I had a girlfriend, I told you women weren't my area. I thought you would take that to mean I was interested in men."

"Oops! Sorry, Sherlock." He looked closely at his friend. "You are happy that I have date, right?"

Sherlock looked up. "Oh! Of course."

"Good!" John smiled and dashed off to his next class. Sherlock followed more slowly.

Victor came running up to him. "I swear I just saw John Watson _skipping_. Is he okay?"

"He's got a date to the ball," Sherlock explained. "With a boy. Judging from the cologne, I'd say Dale Pike, as the only other person to wear that particular brand is Mr Lestrade and I don't think John would go with a teacher. Goes against his moral code."

"Wow. I didn't know Dale went for boys," Victor said as he rubbed his chin.

"Apparently, he's bisexual. And John is, too." Sherlock pouted.

"You're just upset you missed a vital deduction in John, which meant that you could have snatched him up and now you've lost your chance," Victor goaded.

Sherlock growled. "That's not it and you know it. John is my best friend. If he was bisexual, why didn't he come out to me first, instead of only hearing about because he got asked on a date by a boy."

"And him asking you to the ball wasn't coming out to you enough?" Victor asked with a smirk.

"He said he only asked me because neither one of us had dates, or so he thought," Sherlock defended.

Victor laughed. "And you believed him?"

Sherlock turned away. "Well, if you are just going to make fun of me for it…."

"Oh, hey," Victor said and gently turned Sherlock back to face him. "I'm sorry. No, you're right. It does sound like something John would tell you first. But maybe he just didn't realize until Dale asked him."

Sherlock just shrugged. "Maybe."

"I have a question, though."

"What's that?"

"If I hadn't asked you to the ball, would have you gone with him?"

Sherlock muttered something that sounded distinctly like "yes."

Victor just laughed and patted him on the back. "Come on, let's get to class."

* * *

Monday came and things hadn't improved between Sherlock and John. Sherlock was still hurt and sulking, and John couldn't figure it out.

When it lasted through until Wednesday, John decided he'd had enough. They were sitting around the table during lunch when he confronted his friend.

"What the hell, Sherlock? I thought you were happy that I got a date. Or am I not good enough for anyone else?"

Sherlock stood up so fast that the chair clattered to the floor. He slammed his hands down on the table and with head bowed he shouted, "And I thought you were straight! You threw your new sexuality in my face and then expected me to happy that you came out to a stranger first. I thought I was your best friend…."

His breath came fast and shallow. He gulped down the lump in his throat and pushed back the tears as he stood there, arms ramrod straight on the table and trembling.

He raised his head slowly. "What did I do to deserve that?"

John saw the absolute devastation in his friend's face and stood up to walk around the table to stand next to Sherlock.

He touched the dark-haired boy's shoulder only to be shrugged off. "Hey, look at me. Come on."

Sherlock straightened up and turned to face the other boy. He was still trembling with repressed emotion.

John wrapped his arms around him and began muttering, "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I'm so sorry. I never even thought about that. I was just so excited to be asked to the ball. I never meant to hurt you like this. I promise you."

He held on tightly as Sherlock buried his head into his shoulder and began to sob. John squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like an absolute jerk now. He knew there was part of him that wanted to upset Sherlock, just a little. To ease the sting of disappointment of Sherlock going with someone else. But he never meant for it to go this far. It was supposed to have been a "hey, you missed out," not an "oh, you didn't notice? I like men, too," throwing it in his face type of thing. And John should have known better. Sherlock wasn't like other people, he focused on different things.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock," John croaked into his friend's chest. "I shouldn't have said it that way. You didn't deserve that."

Dale and Victor shared a glance behind their backs.

* * *

The day of the dance finally came, and John was back to being excited for the winter ball. The whole school was abuzz with excitement.

John's parents were as excited for his date as he was. They didn't even care that Dale was a boy. His father was fine as long as he still liked girls, too. His mother was just happy that John was finally fitting in at his school. Harry on the other hand…she pretty much said that John only came out as "bisexual" was because he was trying to outdo her being gay. When she said it she was so pissing drunk that John decided to ignore her.

Dale offered to pay for a rental tux for John for the dance, but his parents decided that John deserved a new suit and bought him a really nice one. It was grey with broad silver pinstripes, paired with a black button-up.

He put it on and giggled. He was giddy. It was a weight off his shoulders that he and Sherlock were okay again. Sherlock was supposed to have gotten jealous, not feeling like his best friend betrayed him. He still felt like he would be making it up to the lanky teen for years. And he would do whatever it took.

John was putting the finishing touches on his hair when his mum called up that Dale was here. He washed his hands and then dashed down the stairs, not caring how eager he looked.

Dale was in a simple black tux with a suit jacket and cummerbund. He looked dashing. Unfortunately, John's mother thought so, too. She spent so much time taking pictures that they were almost late to their dinner reservation.

The limo was fantastic and dinner was amazing, but John couldn't help notice the lack of spark. He kept looking for that electric feeling he got when he saw Sherlock, but it wasn't there.

As they were pulling up to the dance, John turned to Dale, "I know we haven't got to the dancing part of our evening, but…" John wasn't sure how to say it.

"Oh, thank god," Dale breathed.

John's head shot up. "You mean you don't feel it, either?"

"No. Look, John, you're a nice bloke, but I prefer my men more…"

"Flamboyant?" John filled in.

Dale laughed. "I was going to say more like me, but that works."

"Doesn't mean we can't have fun tonight as friends, though," John said.

"Absolutely. Let's go have a good time," Dale agreed and they got out of the limo and walked up to the dance hall the school rented for the evening.

They opened the doors and John's heart clenched. Out on the dance floor in a blue velvet jacket was Sherlock dancing with Victor, who, like Dale, was in a regular tux.

"And that's why we didn't click," John said, indicating his best friend.

"Who? Sherlock?" Dale asked. "You have the hots for Sherlock Holmes?"

"God, I am so fucked."

Dale raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

John waved his arm toward the boy dancing with Sherlock, "What would someone like Sherlock want with me when he can have Victor Trevor?"

"So are you in love with him?" Dale asked.

John nodded mutely.

"Come with me." Dale took his hand and dragged John to where the other two boys were dancing. As they neared Sherlock pointed them out to Victor and they all moved off the dance floor.

Sherlock was pouting. "You two have a good time in your _limo_?" he groused.

John looked over at Victor with a raised eyebrow.

"Since neither Sherlock nor I have our licenses and our parents refused to let us hire a car and a driver, we were driven by Mycroft."

The other boys looked at Sherlock in sympathy. "Damn, mate. That's just terrible," Dale commiserated.

Sherlock folded his arms. "It gets worse."

"How could it get worse?" John asked and Victor pointed to the beverage table. There, chatting up Mr Lestrade, was Mycroft.

"Oh." Yeah. That was worse.

"It's a nightmare," Sherlock said. "He's confiscated two bottles of liquor, a case of beer, and some drug paraphernalia, and that's just since the dance started."

"Shite!" Dale cursed.

John sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "There's only one thing left to do."

"What's that?" Victor asked.

"Dance like there is no tomorrow. Ignore him and have fun."

Sherlock grinned. "I like the way you think."

John blushed and followed his friends to the dance floor. They were really burning up the dance floor when the music turned slow. John reached out for Dale, but the tall youth shook his head.

"I need a drink. Why don't you come with me, Victor?"

"I could use something, sure." He turned to Sherlock, "You okay dancing with John while Dale and I go and get drinks?"

Sherlock blushed and nodded. John looked away and the next thing he knew he was being shoved into his best friend's arms.

"You don't have to–" Sherlock started.

"No, no!" John corrected. "I want to. I–uh…I just don't know how."

"I'll teach you," Sherlock said with a warm smile. He put John's hand on his shoulder and took the other hand in his. He put his other hand on John's waist.

"Now step with me," Sherlock instructed. It took John a bit, but soon he was matching Sherlock step for step. As the song progressed, the two boys grew closer and closer together until John's head was resting on Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock looked down at John and couldn't resist the urge to place a kiss on the blond crown resting on his shoulder. John looked up at his friend adoringly and moved forward before he remembered Sherlock was here with someone else. He leaned back and murmured an apology.

"I shouldn't have– you being with Victor and all…" John mumbled.

Sherlock started to laugh. "Oh, no. God no. Victor and me? No, he just wanted arm candy. According to him, I'm the best-looking one at this school. But, we're getting off the topic. I'm not with Victor, and judging from the way Dale is going after Victor's lips, I'd say you weren't with Dale either."

John looked over his shoulder to see that Dale had moved from Victor's lips to his neck.

"Well, then," he said raising his eyebrows. Sherlock gently grasped John's chin to bring him facing each other again. John's breath caught at the complete adoration on his friend's face. Sherlock brought their lips together, and John melted into his embrace.

John would have sworn that it had been hours or at least minutes before they heard a discreet cough behind them. Sherlock looked up and cursed.

"You would pick on us," Sherlock groused at his brother.

"Not at all, I merely wish to speak to John a moment," Mycroft said with a smile.

"It's alright, Sherlock. I'll go see what he wants." Mycroft walked away fully expecting John to follow him, but when he went to do just that, Sherlock grabbed his arm.

"Don't let him bully you, and see if you can't keep him busy while I try to break up Victor and Dale's make-out session before they get kicked out."

John laughed. "Will do!" And he ran to catch up the elder Holmes brother.

By the time John caught up to Mycroft, the older Holmes was back to his post at the beverage table.

"You've changed him, you know," Mycroft said as John came to stand next to him.

"For better, I hope," John replied.

"Indeed. Before he met you he wouldn't have even tried to keep your respective dates out of trouble, he would have just let them hang."

John looked over at Sherlock, who was waving his hands and talking wildly.

"That's certainly true. It's nice to see him with friends other than me," John admitted.

Mycroft chuckled. "You say that now that you two are in a relationship, but you can't tell me that was always the case."

John blushed. "I'll never live that down, will I?"

"Not with me, anyway. I'll glad you two finally figured it out, though. The tension was _excruciating,_" the older Holmes complained.

John's blush darkened and spread to his ears.

"Is this where you give me the 'break his heart and I break your legs' speech?"

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at the young blond. "Do I really need to give it?" John shook his head. "Besides, in all likelihood, he'd get to you first."

"You'd help him hide the body," John said ruefully.

Mycroft cracked a small smile, "Quite."

They fell silent a moment before John spoke up, "You know I would never _actually_ hurt him, right?"

Mycroft sighed. "Not intentionally, no. Like this past week. He has never been like other boys."

"I know. The greatest mind hides the greatest heart. And I will guard them with all the strength I possess."

"That is all I can ask for."

John shoved his hands in his pockets and turned Mycroft. "When kissing a teacher on school property, I wouldn't do it behind the garbage bins. Students go by there all the time." John winked and walked off, waving his hand. "Ta! Mycroft!"

"Wait!" Mycroft called out, but John had already vanished into the crowd.

The blond youth joined his friends with the biggest grin on his face.

"Well, that was fun," he said. "I don't think he'll be paying attention to anything for awhile."

"Why's that?" Dale asked.

"I just told him I caught him snogging Mr Lestrade behind the garbage bins."

Sherlock nearly choked on his own tongue. "Come again?"

"What? You didn't know? Well, this is Mycroft, after all," John said with a half shrug.

"That's just disgusting. I knew that they were interested in each other sexually, but that they had actually started dating? Blech."

John chuckled. "I know a way to get your mind off of it."

Sherlock raised a skeptical eyebrow, so John raised up on his tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. When he had stopped, Sherlock had a blank expression on his face.

"Told you so," John said with a grin.

"Can I keep you?" Sherlock asked.

"Yep."

"Me and Dale are thinking of heading out, this place is a drag and getting tossed out might not be the best thing, you know?" Victor said.

"Leaving so soon?" a warm voice said behind them. All four boys turned around to see Mr Lestrade standing there.

"Um…yeah," Dale muttered.

"Hello, boys," the teacher said with a grin. "John, please be nicer to my boyfriend, he can't handle surprises like that."

John laughed and Sherlock muttered, "He should be use to it by now."

"Sherlock," Mr Lestrade warned. "He wanted me to tell you that John can take you home in his car. He has to stay late, and he knew you wouldn't want to hang around here all night." He handed John the keys. "He also wants you to know that if you make out in his car, he will kill you."

"Yuck!" Sherlock cried. "Like I'd want to do something like that in _his_ car."

Mr Lestrade laughed. "That's what I thought you would say."

He turned to the two remaining boys. "Surely, the two of you can keep it in your pants for at least an hour. You have only been here for twenty minutes and you're already trying to jump each other."

Dale and Victor blushed.

"Have fun, sex is great and all, but do you really want to tell your parents that you weren't there that long and you spent the rest of the time making the limo detailers hate you?"

"No, sir," Victor muttered.

"Good." Mr Lestrade walked off and the boys stared at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter.

John wrapped his arm around Sherlock. "Come on, boys. Let's go have some fun."

Victor and Dale were caught making out twice before they ducked out all together. Once by Mr Lestrade and once by another chaperone. It was after the other chaperone threatened to call their parents that the boys decided it was time to go.

They said goodbye to Sherlock and John, who had decided to stay the whole time. They talked with other friends, danced with other people, but they kept coming back to each other. They were nearly inseparable. People kept coming up and telling them how cute they looked together. Well, their fellow students anyway, most of the other chaperones kept an eye on them, like they expected them to turn into Victor and Dale, making out in any dark corner they could find. But John and Sherlock just ignored them, just dancing the night away.

Midnight came and they started ushering students out. John turned to Sherlock.

"Alright, let's see what pretentious car your brother is letting me borrow," he said, tossing the key in the air and catching it.

"It's isn't even available to the public, yet," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes as they walked out the parking lot. John pressed the unlock button on the remote and an Aston Martin DB10 lit up.

"How did the three of you fit into that?" John asked raising an eyebrow.

"I sat on Victor's lap. He brought it to impress Mr Lestrade, but I'm sure our teacher thought it was impractical to bring to a dance where they would be in need of cargo space. Something I doubt that thing has," Sherlock explained.

John giggled. "I'd say. Where do you want to go?" he asked, as he held open the passenger door for Sherlock.

"Anywhere."

John drove them out to the lake. They got out to walk along the shore. It was cold and it nipped at their noses and cheeks, but they were happily holding hands.

After a few moments of peaceful silence Sherlock asked, "How long have you felt this way about me?"

John's cheeks darkened as he blushed. "Since I first saw you dance. Of course, being the idiot I am, I didn't realize it until this week. But I'd say that was the moment I knew you were special." John sighed. "I was so jealous of the ballerina you were dancing with, I wanted to push her out of the way and take her place. Granted I can't dance for shit, but it didn't stop me from wanting it anyway."

Sherlock kissed him softly. "That sounds wonderful, John."

They walked in silence for a bit before John spoke up. "You gonna tell me when you first fell in love with me?" He bumped his boyfriend with his shoulder.

"You were running late for practice and barreled into me. You could have yelled an 'I'm sorry' and dashed off, but instead you stopped. You lent a hand picking up my things, helped me to my feet, and then gave me the most sincere apology. I knew then that I was done for."

"Sherlock," John breathed. "That was the day we met."

The other boy nodded shyly.

"Why didn't you say anything?" John asked.

"You kept protesting that you weren't gay," Sherlock said with a shrug. "I didn't think I had a chance."

"So, you being in love with me the whole time, that's why when people said we were a couple, you didn't deny it?"

Sherlock nodded. "You caught me, John."

John snuggled into Sherlock's shoulder. "And I am never letting you go."

* * *

**A/N: Just some fun facts, this could have gone a couple other ways. John and Sherlock going together as friends and falling in love on the dance floor. Or John could have gone with Mary. What would have been different with Mary is that she would have asked John because her boyfriend decided to break up with her and go with her best friend to the ball and they (Mary and her best friend) get into a fight at the dance. Victor ends up taking Mary home after she gets kicked out, leaving both John and Sherlock dateless, so they hook up and realize they are in love.**

**What you got was because old ping hai helped me choose the direction to go.**


End file.
